


Contemplating the Lost

by Anilite



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Patch 4.5: A Requiem For Heroes Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anilite/pseuds/Anilite
Summary: A short reaction piece for Requiem for Heroes. The Warrior of Light contemplates what she has lost, and what she might have yet to lose.





	Contemplating the Lost

When they lay her friend to rest alongside the rest of the Scions at the Rising Stones, Ciel stood stoic at the end of the infirmary. Today was one of those days where her heart felt heavier than her armor. It felt like some massive weight on her very soul that wasn’t likely to lift soon. She let the healers tend to the preparations. When it had been Shtola and Thancred she had helped, but now she was certain that her years of medical training amounted for nothing in the face of whatever ailment this was. Nothing she had known about magical or physical healing had been able to rouse the first of them from their slumber, and she knew it would be the same for the rest of her sleeping family. For yet another time in her life she felt out of her depth. She usually felt capable; someone for whom the trust of the realm was well placed. 

“I’m sorry, Alisaie.” She said softly, taking the young woman’s hand in hers and finding the familiar flicker of a pulse in her wrist with her fingertips. It made her feel better, but only marginally. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone.” She let her friend's hand down gently and looked beyond her down the row of sleeping faces. It had felt to her that Alisaie had been ready to fall apart at the seams, and she could only hope that wherever her friend’s spirit was adrift that she wasn’t feeling the loneliness that had already started to eat away her resolve. 

Ciel picked up her lance from where she had lay it to rest against the wall as she turned to leave. For all her years as a medic, the lance didn’t feel heavy or awkward. The lance felt right in her hands; and she wanted to swing it into the face of whatever was keeping her family drifting in the aether. 

When she stepped out of the Stones’ makeshift infirmary Tempest was waiting for her, leaning silently against the wall with his arms crossed. The duskwight was tall and dark, and he had a steadiness about him she had always gravitated to. She glanced up at him. His eyes were hidden by red lensed sunglasses, but she could still tell his expression was solemn. “No change, then.” His voice was low but smooth. She shook her head. 

He nodded slowly. “Now we wait.” He says, looking over at her, then pushing away from the wall in his own time. His armor made soft clinks as he moved. 

“My lance will be ready” she says, her voice chill with anger.

He smiles a thin and grim smile. “The next battle will be upon us soon enough, my love.” 

The anger abates only slightly, and she lowers her head, her expression grim “I feel like we’re not done losing, Tem.” She looks back at the door she had come from not moments ago “like this is only just beginning.”


End file.
